


Ghosting

by Girlwithgoggles



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Kissing, M/M, Panic Attacks, Shane is the ghost for once, Soul Bond, Swearing, ghost cuddles, ghost kisses, lots of swearing, ryan swears a lot, seriously guys i promise it has a happy ending, seriously its used a lot, shyan, the spirit box is basically its own character at this point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-17 00:25:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13647537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Girlwithgoggles/pseuds/Girlwithgoggles
Summary: Shane dies, and Ryan's world falls apart. Then a pen rolls off Ryan's coffee table.For extra sadness, listen to 'Ghosting' by Mother Mother or 'To Build A Home' by The Cinematic Orchestra while you're reading ;)





	Ghosting

The service was short and sweet. Ryan thinks that Shane would have liked it, if he had gone, or more accurately, if he had gone in the way most people hope to.

The congregation moved from the church, down the long gravel driveway to the parking lot as people started to disperse. There was hugging and tearful goodbyes, and some were standing in groups, laughing and reminiscing on good times past. Ryan stood on the edge of the sidewalk, staring into a puddle. It had rained that morning. Ryan sniffed and looked at his reflection in the puddle at his feet. He drew a wide, gummy, smile from somewhere within him and dropped it almost immediately, it made his face hurt and looked fake anyways. A cool breeze blew past him and he shivered where he stood, ducking his head into his jacket, trying to fend off the early fall chill.

“Ryan, I’m headed back now, you want a lift?” It was Jen, half in her car already. Ryan glanced into the back seat and saw it was empty. He shivered again.

“Okay,” he responded and made his way across the street. The chill still clung to him the whole ride to his apartment and down under three layers of blankets.

Ryan fell into a fitful sleep that wasn’t quite sleeping, so much as laying in the oppressive darkness until he couldn’t ignore the light flooding through his bedroom window and he got up for work.

— — — 

Ryan pulled back. His friends noticed, and they gave him time. It had been weeks of sleepless nights and foggy work days. Ryan sat at his desk editing, not fully aware of what he was doing. One day, Ryan just sat and stared at Shane’s empty desk. It had been cleaned up, Shane’s belongings sat in a box in a supply closet of the office. He could feel his eyes getting blurry and when the hitched sob came, it was Jen who rushed over and pulled him away from his desk. She took him out into the hall and held him for as long as she could. Ryan sobbed into her shoulder and shook his head, saying he was stupid and that he’d stop in a minute, just give him a minute, just a minute. Jen cried too and held him tighter and Ryan collapsed into her and shook and cried and the whole office could hear him by now but he couldn’t even muster the energy to care. He felt empty. He felt cold. 

Ryan took a leave of absence from work for a few days. Everyone agreed that he should get rest, told him to take a few weeks, but Ryan came back only a few days later and retired BuzzFeed Unsolved. There was no point without his sceptic, without his taller counterpart there was no show so why bother. Ryan’s friends forced him to take a longer break. They put him on payed leave for two weeks, to give him time to grieve properly instead of shoving it down and bottling it up like he had been doing.

And that’s how Ryan found himself sitting alone in his living room, staring at the tv that was quietly relaying the news to him. Ryan wasn’t paying much attention. He’d zoned out a while ago and was now just watching the anchors hair bounce every time she moved.

He was so out of it that he almost missed the pen falling from his coffee table, to the carpeted floor by his feet. He glanced down to where the pen sat, but shrugged and let it lie there. A few second later, something tapped at his foot. Ryan glanced down, looking for the disturbance, but froze when he saw the pen, rolling back and forth over and over again into his foot. 

Ryan drew his feet up onto the couch, knees to his chest and sucked in a breath, “What the fuck?”

The pen went still where it lay on the floor but the tissue box on his coffee table started to slide across the surface of the table towards him. On instinct, Ryan threw out a hand and smacked the box off the other end of the table. He jumped up onto the couch and looked down at the box lying innocently on the floor. His whole body was vibrating with nerves and his eyes were flicking around the room wildly. The only thought in his head was that if Shane had been there he would have laughed… but then something painful twisted in Ryan’s gut and he stopped that train of thought.

Ever since the toothpaste tube had tipped off that bathroom counter, Ryan’s belief in ghosts had become a constant, strong staple in his life. It had gotten him a popular show on Youtube, and introduced him to his best friend. But after every episode, after every chilling case or haunted location, Ryan always returned home feeling more drained than scared. He would return home to his apartment, and all those fears of demons following him home, or ghosts messing with his stuff would float away. A spirit in his home didn’t feel real, didn’t feel possible. Of course he still believed. It wasn’t like he had been turning his belief on and off for the cameras, but as soon as Ryan began to clear his throat, thick from in use, he felt stupid for what he was about to say.

“Is there someone here with me?”

Every cabinet in Ryan’s kitchen opened in one swift motion and then slammed shut again. 

Ryan screamed. Then he bolted for his room, locked the door and slid down the wall behind it. 

He was shaking, eyes squeezed shut with tears beginning to prick at the corners. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” in his head Ryan’s brain was melting. There was a ghost, there was a demon, the devil was in the other room and he was about to die, he was about to be possessed and get thrown out the fucking window.

In a moment of weakness a quiet name almost slipped from Ryan’s lips, but he gulped it back and buried his head in his knees, shaking horribly. The apartment was silent, no banging or wailing. Nothing else spooky happened as Ryan slowly got up and went to his bed. He lay down and pulled the covers over his head. 

“None of that happened, you’re going fucking insane.” Saying that out loud, trying to reassure himself just made him scoff. Of course that just happened, Ryan may be depressed and not all there, but he wouldn’t just imagine ten fucking cupboards banging off their hinges. 

Ryan felt like a kid again, shaking under the covers. Because of course monsters can’t rip through polyester blend fabric. Stupid. Ryan pulled back the covers over his face and lay there, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Fuck it.”

Ryan got up and went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and washed his face. Then he walked back into his bedroom and sat on the bed, pulling the flashlight from his bedside table.

Ryan let out a shaky breath and dropped his head, this was stupid… 

“Hey ghost? You there?”

The flashlight started going crazy. Ryan fell off his bed and onto the floor, flailing wildly. He got tangled in his sheets and by the time he detangled himself and clambered back up onto his bed, the flashlight had stopped.

“Wow okay um… I don’t know who you are or where you came from but… If you can let me live tonight, I’ll try and communicate with you tomorrow. Okay?”

The flashlight was dark for a long while and Ryan began to sweat. 

“Twice for ‘Sleep tight’, once for ‘I’m going to kill you right now…’” 

The flashlight flashed on and off once and then lay dark. Ryan almost fainted. The flashlight flashed again quickly and then rolled off the table it was on. Ryan almost choked on his laugh.

“Okay fuck you too ghost. That scared the shit out of me. Good night I guess.” 

Ryan grabbed the flashlight off the ground and slid it into his drawer, closing it. Then he lay in bed for about half an hour staring at the ceiling again. 

He finally said fuck it. No hope of sleeping tonight. Ryan pulled out his computer and assumed browsing position. 

———

Ryan walked into his kitchen to find all the cupboards in varying states of open. Thankfully the fridge was still closed. At least the ghost cared about not spoiling Ryan’s milk, how thoughtful. After a quick breakfast, he put on a beanie and sunglasses, black hoodie with the hood up and some black jeans. 

It wasn’t like he was banned from being at work but his friends would probably freak and send him right back out the doors, telling him to sleep and spend time with family. Ha, how could he sleep with a ghost infestation?

Ryan went to the door and went to grab his keys from their bowl. He pulled them out and almost dropped them. There was something fuzzy and brown clinging to them. His head said centipede and he could feel his fingers trying to detach themselves from his hand. He looked closer and something worse than disgust twisted in his stomach. 

It was a stick-on moustache. Ryan held it, not quite seeing it. His eyes went blurry and he stormed over to the garbage, throwing it open and chucking the moustache onto the pile before slamming it. He almost collapsed beside the bin but about five different lights in the apartment exploded simultaneously and Ryan shrieked instead. 

“Alright, alright I’m going, Jesus fucking Christ!” Ryan scrubbed at his eyes and fled the apartment. 

Lightbulbs were added to his shopping list. 

——— 

Trying to casually walk into BuzzFeed and steal all his ghost equipment seemed like a better idea in theory. He got through the front doors just fine, and his trek up to the offices went quickly. 

As soon as he reached the doors to the main floor however, he realized that maybe his decision to wear all black wasn’t a great one. The brightly coloured and inhabited BuzzFeed office went almost dead as soon as Ryan stepped inside. Almost immediately Jen was on him.

“Ryan, no! Go home dude,” the pain in her eyes was evident, and Ryan felt bad. 

“I’m not here to work, I just needed to pick up a few things is all…” 

Jen narrowed her eyes sceptically, “I could have brought you what you needed.” 

Ryan smiled and shrugged, “I didn’t want to bother you… Plus, I can’t stay cooped up in the house all day, gotta get out, ya know?”

Jen hummed but let him by with a promise to visit him at the end of two weeks.

Ryan made his way quickly to the storage room he’d shoved the box full of equipment. He purposefully ignored the other box sitting collecting dust in the room and closed the door quickly behind him. Once retrieved, he carried the box casually towards the exit. 

“Please, cut me a break, cut me a break. As soon as Jen sees me carrying this stuff she’s gonna handcuff me and take me to my parents house,” Ryan was mumbling. Granted her doing that would probably be a logical response to your friend trying to communicate with the dead but… a thought crossed Ryan’s mind, one that somehow hadn’t even occurred to Ryan before now.

What if it was Shane?

Something big swelled in Ryan’s chest and he practically ran from the offices, not even giving Jen a chance to say goodbye.

As soon as Ryan locked his apartment door behind him, a pencil from the kitchen counter rolled off and onto the floor. 

Ryan wheezed nervously, “Yeah, okay I’m back. What are you a cat?” The pencil began to roll across the floor towards him and Ryan jumped away with a shriek. 

Ryan set the box of equipment down on the coffee table and started rummaging through it. Finally he found what he was looking for and he pulled it out triumphantly. 

“Ah-ha! Alright buddy, this thing is called a Spirit Box, it’s basically a radio tuner that scans radio frequencies. What it does is it-“ 

Ryan cut himself off as the one unblown light in his living room started to flicker, “Alright, um, never mind, I’ll just, uh, turn it on and you can talk I guess…” The swelling in his chest only grew.

Ryan glanced around the room, took a steadying breath, and then flicked the switch. The room felt almost crowded all of a sudden with the loud static that filled it.

Ryan squeezed his eyes shut, listening to the disjointed clips of speech, “Who are you?”

Almost immediately the box spat out a few syllables that sounded vaguely like Richard.

“R-richard? Your name is Richard?”

Ryan’s heart felt like it had fallen into his stomach. The swelling in his chest deflated instantly and he wanted to cry. He had been hoping, stupidly, that he might hear a different name. Ryan felt almost bad to have wished to hear Shane’s name. It was stupidly presumptuous to think Shane would spend his afterlife talking to Ryan, or even the fact that Ryan had hoped Shane hadn’t moved on yet, to a better place. Ryan rubbed at his damp eyes and then nodded.

“Okay Richard, um, what can I do for you?”

The static went on for a few more seconds before a disjointed voice began to speak through others words, “I’m just kidding, its me, Shane. Haha, sorry about your lights by the way.”

Ryan collapsed into the couch and didn’t respond. He felt light headed and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the small black box, still spewing static. He was shaking, and a strangled laugh bubbled up his throat. 

“Shane?” Ryan whispered, the hope swelling back up within him, “Ghost please don’t be fucking with me here because I don’t think I could…” 

The box hiccuped and then, “It’s me baby, in the flesh!” The boxes static grew louder and more jumpy, it sounded like laughter.

Ryan choked on a sob. 

“Oh jeez, Ry, I’m sorry dude… It was funnier in my head.”

Ryan grabbed the box and switched it off hurriedly. He shook his head, bringing the box to his forehead and trying to gulp down some steadying breaths. The box of equipment on the table twitched and Ryan sighed. He flipped back on the Spirit Box and pressed the button to quicken it’s pace.

“I’m sorry Ry,” almost immediately punched out of the box. It didn’t sound like Shane, it sounded like a hodgepodge of different people’s voices, but Ryan still shivered at the sound of his nickname.

“Shane, why are you here?”

There was a long pause and then, “I don’t really know…” 

Ryan nodded and then fell silent. The room was full of the sound of the box, but no one spoke or tried to start a conversation. 

— — — 

The next day, Ryan woke up around late afternoon from what was his first long sleep in months. It felt weird to actually wake up, like he’d forgotten where he was. Everything felt different after what had happened last night and Ryan slowly shuffled into his living room, almost expecting the box of equipment not to be there, like the night before had been some sort of weird fever dream. 

Fortunately for his sanity, the box still sat on the coffee table, Spirit Box still discarded on his couch. For some reason, all of the trash and various things Ryan had dropped carelessly on the floor over the last few weeks were now pushed to the corners of the room, under the coffee table, and some pencils and the tissue box were even under the couch. Ryan raised an eyebrow at the strange piles and then his eyes flicked to the Spirit Box where it lay, innocently, on the couch.

Ryan sighed and picked it up. He turned it over and over in his hands and then set it down on the coffee table, turning it on. 

“Shane?” He didn’t look at the box, simply gazed out the window at the sun that was slowly dipping. Wow, he really did sleep a long time. He slumped into the couch cushions. 

It took only a moment for a response to come through.

“Yeah buddy?”

It took a while for Ryan to phrase his question, but then, “Are you okay? Are you in pain?”

No pause this time, “I’m fine Ry, I feel fine.”

Ryan hummed, still staring out the window, eyes almost glazed. He nodded and hummed again.

“I guess…” He broke off.

“You guess what?” came Shane’s crackly response.

Ryan’s lips parted and he cracked a distant, thin smile, “I guess I was right about ghosts.” He laughed, but there was no humour to it, “Shaniacs are quaking.”

There was that staticy laugh again and then Shane spoke, “I don’t think Shaniac is even a thing anymore at this point.”

Ryan’s tentative smile fell instantly and his eyes glazed back over, he pulled his knee up to his chest.

“Because you’re talking to a real ghost,” Shane added quickly, but it didn’t dispel the heavy air that had settled in the room.

There was a long pause. A moment in time where Ryan knew Shane was holding his breath, despite not having any to hold, and Ryan was focusing on not crying. He’d been crying entirely too much as of late. And while it was warranted, it was draining and made him feel empty inside. 

“I miss you,” Ryan whispered. 

The static felt heavy all of a sudden and Ryan hugged his legs to his chest, he counted the second as they stretched out. 

“I miss you too Ry.” It was quiet, but it made something in Ryan unwind and he let out a shaky breath. It turned into a soft laugh and he finally pried his eyes away from the window. 

“So, what now? Are you here for some unfinished business you need help with?” Ryan shifted so his feet were on the floor and he was resting his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. 

The static sparked a few times and then Shane came back through, “I honestly don’t know Ry. When I…” there was a long pause, “When I kicked the bucket, my ghost just sort of hopped out and I floated around randomly in this darkness for a while. Didn’t really know what was happening, or what I was supposed to do…” Shane trailed off, the static almost seemed to get quieter, “But then some stupidly bright light caught my attention and I was pulled towards it. Thought it was heaven or something.”

“What was it?” Ryan asked, eyebrow raised.

“I think it was— I don’t really know?” Shane sounded unsure somehow, “I don’t know dude, it was just super bright and warm, and I was cool with getting as close to it as I possibly could. And then I was back here, and I saw you and decided to fuck with you.”

Ryan laughed, “Fuck you dude.”

There was a pause, and then the box popped again, “hey, could I, hug you?”

“That’s… not possible, you’re not corporeal!”

“I’m corporeal enough to move all your crap around!”

“Oh yeah, what’s with the weird piles man?”

There was a loud pop of static, a laugh, “I was trying to clean up. I’ve gotten good at the pushing and pulling, not so much at picking up though.”

Ryan wheezed, “So you decided, fuck it, I’ll just fuckin push all his shit into piles all over the room?” 

“Shut up, I was being helpful!”

Ryan laughed harder and cracked a full smile, all teeth and gums. His chest felt lighter than it had in months and he sat back on the couch, pulling the Spirit Box with him. He held it in his lap and let his chuckles die down.

“Hugging? I could hug a pillow or something and you could just float within it or some shit, I don’t know,” Ryan looked around his bare couch for something to hold.

“I could possess you and give you a full body Ghost hug?”

“Shut up Shane,” but Ryan was already laughing again.

Suddenly Ryan felt incredibly warm, but also cold at the same time. Is this how people who are dying of hypothermia feel? Ryan thought briefly, but then no, because this felt good, it felt nice, it felt safe. Ryan felt his eyes close but couldn’t remember closing them. It felt like someone was humming, the vibrations from their body shaking through Ryan’s in a pleasant wave. 

“Wow,” was all Ryan could manage, his mouth felt numb and heavy. His arms came up on their own and wrapped around himself in a loose embrace. He took in a shaky breath and let it out as the warmth began to seep away from his limbs, until he was left in control of his body once again, feeling very tired. 

“Wow man, that was… crazy,” Ryan’s eye lids drooped but he smiled another gummy smile.

“Yeah sorry, I dunno if that’s normal or anything really, sorta new to this whole ghost gig.”

Ryan snorted, “I think I’m gonna fall asleep man, sorry.”

Shane buzzed, “No it’s fine, I think possession is probably really tiring, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Shane?”

“Yeah Ry?”

“Please don’t.”

The static of the Spirit Box went low, and then a warm presence settled over Ryan again, but he could still feel all his limbs and when he moved himself down onto his back, his body complied. 

“I’ll set up all the equipment tomorrow, promise.” Ryan mumbled

“Great.” It sounded flat and sarcastic, and it didn’t come from the spirit box that time. Ryan slipped back into sleep.

— — — 

Ryan woke up feeling amazing. He no longer felt sluggish or heavy, his bagged and red rimmed eyes had disappeared with that nights sleep, and his body felt lighter somehow, almost back to his old self.

“Okay man lets make this apartment ghost friendly!”

Ryan pulled the motion activated bubble lights from the box and placed one in his kitchen, one in his living room by the couch, and one inside his bedroom door. He had Shane test them out, telling him to walk by each light from different angles and distances. Ryan also took a page from the Stranger Things handbook and strung up Christmas lights on the wall. He put pieces of paper with common phrased below some of the bulbs. “HELLO”, “YES”, “NO”, “I DON’T KNOW”, and “I just don't find it compelling,”  
were all there, among others. Shane loved using the last one, despite it not pertaining to what they would be talking about, at all. 

The loud obnoxious static of the Spirit Box had become a constant in Ryan’s apartment so that Shane could add his two cents and make sarcastic comments as Ryan went about his day. They talked non-stop for hours and then Shane would say he’d have somewhere to be, and Ryan would shut the Box off and have a moment of quiet, until a light flickered or a pencil began to roll across a table and then it’d be back on and they’d go back to their banter. 

Eventually, the loud static became more comforting and relaxing than silence did, and whenever the Box was off, Ryan would become antsy. Sometimes he’d just sit on his couch, staring at one of his newly replaced lamp bulbs, waiting for it to flick on and off. He’d even taken off the lamp shades of his living room lamps, leaving the bulb exposed, so that he didn’t miss it flicking on if the sun was bright enough to make the light unnoticeable. 

Shane started taking longer and longer breaks and Ryan started to worry. The wednesday of his second week of break, Ryan had just finished making popcorn and was walking into his living room. 

He called to Shane, making sure he was there, but there was no response. Ryan stopped in his tracks, putting the popcorn bowl down on the table and turning to the lamp on his side table. 

“Shane?” Ryan flicked the lamp on, waiting for it to flick off. Nothing happened. Ryan felt something cold and tight sliding around his lungs and he ran for his bedroom where he’d taken to leaving the Spirit Box.

“Shane? You there big guy? C’mon,” Ryan flipped on the Spirit Box and walked quickly back into his living room. He paced back and forth, Box held up to his ear despite the loudness of it. His head was getting hot, and his hands were getting cold, his body started shaking minutely.

“Shane, don’t fuck with me you fucking sasquatch, seriously!”

And then, finally a piece of popcorn came whizzing through the air and hit Ryan on the side of the head. The shaking stopped and he let out the breath he’d been holding, the cold tightness around his lungs ebbed.

“God man, don’t do that! I thought you’d gone to the light or some shit,” He laughed, but it was nervous.

The spirit box crackled, “I— Ry— Sor— Harder too—“ and then it went back to dead static.

Ryan’s stomach flipped, “Okay, alright, fuck, you’re getting tired or something? Weaker? You just need a juice up and you’ll be back to your old annoying self…” Ryan searched the room frantically for something, anything, but the likelihood of having a ghost battery just lying around was ridiculous. 

“Baby— ha— figured out how to— throw shit—“ Another piece of popcorn came whizzing towards Ryan, but this one was lower, less accurate. 

A nervous anger bubbled up in Ryan and he wanted to smack the popcorn bowl off the table, “Shane don’t waste your energy. God, you can’t leave yet!” He racked his brain, spinning around the room and finally stopped when he saw his own reflection in the TV. Something shadowy was behind him. He wasn’t scared, he knew it was Shane, and his closeness made Ryan calm a bit. He turned and looked vaguely to where he assumed Shane’s face was. 

“Remember when you possess hugged me? I woke up the next morning feeling better than I have in weeks… What if you did what you did to me, but opposite?”

The “NO” Christmas light on the wall blinked weakly. 

“Why not? I’m fine! I probably have more energy than I need, right? I’ve been drinking so much coffee! You can just, I dunno, take a bit of my energy. Then you won’t have to— Then you won’t—” Ryan cut himself off because his throat was getting tight. A presence on Ryan’s shoulder warmed it and his shoulders drooped. Ryan dropped his head forward and his forehead felt warm and tingly, he could almost feel a phantom hand in his hair. 

“Please, big guy…” 

The static grew softer, and then, “— kay Ry—“ 

The same warm coldness encompassed Ryan’s whole body and he felt light on his feet, but heavy in his body, like he was about to collapse and someone else was holding him in their arms. He felt so safe and warm, he wanted to cry, but his tear ducts had nothing to give. Ryan tried to imagine a human, corporeal Shane doing this, and all he could imagine was Shane cradling him bridle style, something warm and happy curled in his stomach. Then his body walked over to the couch and sat down. Shane’s voice spoke, in Ryan’s head. It was quiet and gentle, but steady.

“I haven’t done this before, so I don’t know how it’s gonna feel, sorry if it hurts or it feels weird, I’ll try to be quick.” 

Ryan sent his okayness with whatever Shane was going to do, since his mouth wasn’t quite working. It felt like it was full of warm marshmallow. 

That humming, vibration from their first possession shook through Ryan again in the same pleasant waves, only this time they felt like they were centred in Ryan’s chest and were going outwards instead of inwards. 

Ryan smiled, his head relaxed against the back of the couch and he let the almost burning warmth take what it needed. It only lasted a few minutes, and it instantly pulled away after that, like it was scared to touch it for any longer. The full body warmth pulled away and Ryan was left feeling dizzy and tired, but surprisingly okay, like whatever energy Shane had pulled from him, he was willing to give more. 

“Ryan, are you okay? How do you feel? Was that too much, I couldn’t really gauge how much I was taking, I’m sorry!”

Ryan smiled sleepily, “No, I’m fine, just tired now.”

The Spirit Box made some unhappy static sparks and then, after a long pause, the “I just don't find it compelling” Christmas light flicked on, strong and yellow. Ryan laughed and sat up shakily. He felt so light, so happy, and very, very dizzy. 

“Shane come here, come in front of me for a second.” 

“Sure thing, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby,” but Ryan was smiling dopily, “Are you here?”

“Yeah I am, I’m just to your left.” 

Ryan turned and hummed, “Bend down here for a second, get on my level.”

“That’s gonna be difficult, since your height is negative numbers at this point.”

“Shut up Shane,” Ryan waited for a moment. 

“Okay, I had to float my legs down through the floor, but I’m at head level now,” The static through the box made it evident that Shane was laughing now, “Now what the heck do you—“ 

Ryan tipped forward and stuck his face into the warm presence beside him, he closed his eyes and pushed his lips out, but he really couldn’t tell if he’d actually made contact with Shane’s mouth, or his nose, or even his neck accidentally. 

Every light in the room went crazy and every cupboard door banged open. The “YES” Christmas light exploded. 

Ryan leaned backwards laughing, full gummy smile in play, “Where did I kiss you?” His words were shaky from laughing so hard. 

The Spirit Box on the counter took a couple seconds to stop cracking and popping, like someone had dropped the phone and was scrambling to pick it back up. Ryan smiled to his left and wheezed a little. 

“yOUkissED mY Upper Lip— JeSus Ry— WarN a Ghost NExt TimE,” The Box was distorting Shane’s words so much that Ryan fell over on the couch laughing. He clutched at his stomach and laughed harder and when something warm and fuzzy draped over his body and enveloped his head, it took him a few seconds to calm down enough to realize what was happening. Ryan’s eyes slid shut and he let the warm static move over his face. With his eyes closed, Ryan could almost imagine big hands cupping his face and lips kissing his. The static around his mouth almost felt like stubble burn and he laughed despite himself.

The warmth pulled away and Ryan made an unhappy sound in his throat. 

“Thanks,” The voice was Shane’s, and it was incredibly close to his ear, Ryan turned his head, but of course, there was no one there. He sighed and lay back on the couch, and as soon as he did, he felt tired. 

The Box’s static picked up again, “C’mon Ryan, go get into bed, you really need to stop sleeping on the couch so much.” 

Ryan rolled over slowly and got to his feet, he watched as all the lights in the room slowly turned off and the cupboard doors all closed one by one. The light sounds of tinkling glass came from the Christmas lights wall and Ryan watched as the broken “YES” light floated up and dropped into the garbage can.

Then the motion light in Ryan’s room went off and Ryan followed it like a beacon. He crawled into bed and lay on his side, facing the edge of the bed, and only a second later, did something warm and shifting press up against his back. It calmed him even farther and he fell asleep instantly. 

— — — 

Thursday, they went back to their usual schedule, except with more warm, fuzzy ghost kisses. Ryan noticed Shane relying more and more on the Christmas lights throughout the day. He didn’t comment, he just played an old episode of Frasier and ate the old bowl of popcorn that he’d forgotten about the day prior. 

Shane made the same stupid jokes and sarcastic comments, but they were slower coming and at one point Ryan turned off the Spirit Box and put his hand down on the couch. He told Shane to be quiet and just hold his hand. He did. 

At night Ryan set up the lazar grid in the only small hallway that he had. The harsh green dots made the dark hallway feel like it was expanding into a wide open nothingness, and then a tall black shape moved through the green pinpricks towards Ryan and Ryan turned on his iPod and danced around in the dark with a ghost. 

He cried that night and Shane curled up against his back again and made Ryan feel like he was melting from the heat, but he burrowed closer and breathed in deeply, wishing he could breath in Shane’s scent, but everything smelled like Ryan’s shampoo and he fell asleep in an intoxicatingly warm bubble. 

— — — 

Friday, Jen texted him to remind him that she was going to come over and visit. Ryan took down the Christmas lights and the motion lights. The lazar grid had already been packed away in the box he’d retrieved it from and he added the other equipment in as well. He sat at his kitchen table and flicked on the Spirit Box, letting the relaxing static envelop him. 

“Shane?” 

“Yeah Ry,” Shane’s disjointed words were quiet, and a warm static pressed against his back and leaned around to brush against his lips. 

“Battery didn’t work, did it.”

Static. 

“No it didn’t.”

“Fuck,” was all Ryan could respond with. For a while, it was silent.

Ryan slumped in his chair, heart aching painfully, “Why did you come here Shane?”

More static and then Shane came back through, “When I kicked the bucket, my ghost took a stroll through this endless darkness, and then some stupidly bright light caught my attention and I was pulled towards it. Thought it was heaven.”

“What was it?” Ryan asked, mouth dry. 

“You.”

Ryan’s breath hitched and he stared intently at the Spirit Box because he didn’t want to turn around and pretend to look at the ghost standing behind him, because there would be nothing there to look at and then Ryan would loose it. 

“You were just super bright and warm, and I was desperate to get as close to you as possible.”

Ryan hiccuped, “Shane are you going to leave?”

“I don’t want to.”

“But you’re going to, right? You’re just going to run out of fucking energy and burn out.” It wasn’t a question, Ryan knew the answer. 

The static stretched forever and when Shane answered, the voice through the Box sounded so much like Shane that Ryan jumped, “I guess this is where I have to say goodbye then, huh, little fella?”

Ryan’s eyes were getting misty, “Shane, can you hug me, one last time.”

“Ryan, tell me you’re going to be okay, I need you—“ The static popped and Ryan got the distinct impression that Shane had just choked on his words, “I need you to tell me you’re going to be okay.”

Ryan slowly began to smile, he closed his eyes and answered, “If you stay with me, I’ll be okay.”

“Ryan, I can’t, you know—“ The static cut off again into gibberish. 

“Shane,” the static quieted, “Just hug me and say goodbye, please.”

A second later the burning warmth enveloped him and something fuzzy and shaky wrapped around something inside himself that responded immediately by pulling at the warmth, collecting it towards itself. Ryan could still move his arms and legs, so he supposed Shane must be very weak at this point. Ryan got up and walked over to the couch, carrying the Spirit Box with him. He stood beside the coffee table and stared down at the Box in his hand. He placed one hand over his chest where the warmth was burning hottest. 

“….See ya big guy”

“See ya later baby!”

“Don’t call me baby.”

There was no response.

Ryan took a shaky breath and turned off the Spirit Box. The room fell silent.

Ryan felt like he should be crying, but there was something pooling warm and familiar in his chest that was stopping the tears from flowing. 

His hand tightened in his thin henley over where the feeling was stemming from. He gave a soft laugh, felt the warmth dance through his body and then settle again. Ryan packed away the Spirit Box. The box with all the equipment would go back to the storage closet at the BuzzFeed offices next week.

— — — 

Jen came over. The first thing she did when Ryan opened the door was pull him into a tight hug. The second thing she did was march into his apartment and look around at every little detail. No doubt she was looking for piles of garbage, beer bottles littering the floor and Christmas lights strung up on the walls with letters painted below each of them. Ryan laughed to himself and his chest felt warm. 

“You didn’t visit your family, I asked them,” Jen spoke after deeming the apartment was not a complete mess. 

“Yeah, I just needed time to, time to myself, to sort stuff out,” Ryan walked in and stood beside her, looking out the living room window at the red orange leaves on the tree out their. 

“How do you feel now? You okay?” Jen looked at him nervously, sympathetically.

Ryan laughed, he flashed a gummy smile, just to feel the warmth in his chest bubble up excitedly. 

“Yeah, I think… I think I’m gonna be okay.”

Jen smiled at him and invited him for pizza. Ryan accepted and went to grab his coat from the closet. When they arrived at the pizza place, all Ryan’s coworkers were already there, sitting at the largest table the place had available. They were all smiling at him, and Ryan was smiling back, and the warmth in his chest was almost burning, but it felt good and he ate a full pizza on his own, and laughed with his friends. He felt solid, he felt warm, he felt grounded, he was happy. Ryan just hoped Shane was too. Something in Ryan’s chest felt light and bubbly, and he thought, ‘yeah, Shane’s okay too.’

**Author's Note:**

> I know they're real people, I'm sorry. 
> 
> (This was written after I opened AO3 and thought "Ryan dies way too much in fics" I was originally gonna make it funny, but as I wrote is just turned into this mess)
> 
> If you liked it, please give me a Kudos and maybe some comments?! It makes me so happy when people enjoy my stories!


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